Northanger Abbey

Key

FID

indirect

intro to FID or indirect

Chapter 7

Half a minute conducted them
through the pump-yard to the archway, opposite Union Passage; but here they
were stopped. Everybody acquainted with Bath may remember the difficulties
of crossing Cheap Street at this point; it is indeed a street of so
impertinent a nature, so unfortunately connected with the great London and
Oxford roads, and the principal inn of the city, that a day never passes in
which parties of ladies, however important their business, whether in quest
of pastry, millinery, or even (as in the present case) of young men, are not
detained on one side or other by carriages, horsemen, or carts. This evil
had been felt and lamented, at least three times a day, by Isabella since
her residence in Bath; and she was now fated to feel and lament it once
more, for at the very moment of coming opposite to Union Passage, and within
view of the two gentlemen who were proceeding through the crowds, and
threading the gutters of that interesting alley, they were prevented
crossing by the approach of a gig, driven along on bad pavement by a most
knowing-looking coachman with all the vehemence that could most fitly
endanger the lives of himself, his companion, and his horse.

“Oh, these odious
gigs!”said Isabella, looking
up.“How I detest
them.”But this detestation,
though so just, was of short duration, for she looked again and
exclaimed,“Delightful! Mr. Morland
and my brother!”

“Good heaven! 'Tis
James!”was uttered at the same
moment by Catherine; and, on catching the young men’s eyes, the horse
was immediately checked with a violence which almost threw him on his
haunches, and the servant having now scampered up, the gentlemen jumped
out, and the equipage was delivered to his care.

Catherine, by whom this
meeting was wholly unexpected, received her brother with the liveliest
pleasure; and he, being of a very amiable disposition, and sincerely
attached to her, gave every proof on his side of equal satisfaction, which
he could have leisure to do, while the bright eyes of Miss Thorpe were
incessantly challenging his notice; and to her his devoirs were speedily
paid, with a mixture of joy and embarrassment which might have informed
Catherine, had she been more expert in the development of other people’s
feelings, and less simply engrossed by her own, that her brother thought her
friend quite as pretty as she could do herself.

John Thorpe, who in the
meantime had been giving orders about the horses, soon joined them, and from
him she directly received the amends which were her due; for while he
slightly and carelessly touched the hand of Isabella, on her he bestowed a
whole scrape and half a short bow. He was a stout young man of middling
height, who, with a plain face and ungraceful form, seemed fearful of being
too handsome unless he wore the dress of a groom, and too much like a
gentleman unless he were easy where he ought to be civil, and impudent where
he might be allowed to be easy.He took out his
watch:“How long do you think
we have been running it from Tetbury, Miss Morland?”

“I do not know the
distance.”Her brother told her
thatit was twenty-three miles.

“Three and
twenty!”cried Thorpe.“Five and twenty if it
is an inch.”Morland remonstrated,
pleaded the authority of road-books, innkeepers, and milestones; but his
friend disregarded them all; he had a surer test of distance.“I know it must be five
and twenty,” said he, “by the time we have been doing it. It is now half
after one; we drove out of the inn-yard at Tetbury as the town clock
struck eleven; and I defy any man in England to make my horse go less
than ten miles an hour in harness; that makes it exactly
twenty-five.”

“You have lost an
hour,”said Morland;“it was only ten o’clock
when we came from Tetbury.”

“Ten o’clock! It was
eleven, upon my soul! I counted every stroke. This brother of yours
would persuade me out of my senses, Miss Morland; do but look at my
horse; did you ever see an animal so made for speed in your
life?”(The servant had just
mounted the carriage and was driving off.)“Such true blood! Three
hours and and a half indeed coming only three and twenty miles! Look at
that creature, and suppose it possible if you can.”

“He does look very hot, to be
sure.”

“Hot! He had not turned a
hair till we came to Walcot Church; but look at his forehand; look at his
loins; only see how he moves; that horse cannot go less than ten miles an
hour: tie his legs and he will get on. What do you think of my gig, Miss
Morland? A neat one, is not it? Well hung; town-built; I have not had it a
month. It was built for a Christchurch man, a friend of mine, a very good
sort of fellow; he ran it a few weeks, till, I believe, it was convenient to
have done with it. I happened just then to be looking out for some light
thing of the kind, though I had pretty well determined on a curricle too;
but I chanced to meet him on Magdalen Bridge, as he was driving into Oxford,
last term: ‘Ah!
Thorpe,’said he,‘do you happen to
want such a little thing as this? It is a capital one of the kind, but I
am cursed tired of it.’‘Oh! D—,' said I;
‘I am your man; what do you ask?’ And how much do you think he
did, Miss Morland?”

“I am sure I cannot guess at
all.”

“Curricle-hung, you see;
seat, trunk, sword-case, splashing-board, lamps, silver moulding, all you
see complete; the iron-work as good as new, or better.He askedfifty guineas;I closed with him directly,
threw down the money, and the carriage was mine.”

“And I am sure,”said Catherine,“I know so little of such
things that I cannot judge whether it was cheap or
dear.”

“Neither one nor t’other; I
might have got it for less, I dare say; but I hate haggling, and poor
Freeman wanted cash.”

“That was very
good-natured of you,” said Catherine, quite pleased.

“Oh! D— it, when one
has the means of doing a kind thing by a friend, I hate to be
pitiful.”

An inquiry now took place
into the intended movements of the young ladies; and, on finding whither
they were going, it was decided that the gentlemen should accompany them to
Edgar’s Buildings, and pay their respects to Mrs. Thorpe. James and Isabella
led the way; and so well satisfied was the latter with her lot, so
contentedly was she endeavouring to ensure a pleasant walk to him who
brought the double recommendation of being her brother’s friend, and her
friend’s brother, so pure and uncoquettish were her feelings, that, though
they overtook and passed the two offending young men in Milsom Street, she
was so far from seeking to attract their notice, that she looked back at
them only three times.

John Thorpe kept of
course with Catherine, and, after a few minutes’ silence, renewed the
conversation about his gig.“You will find, however,
Miss Morland, it would be reckoned a cheap thing by some people, for I
might have sold it for ten guineas more the next day; Jackson, of Oriel,
bid me sixty at once; Morland was with me at the time.”

“Yes,”said Morland, who
overheard this;“but you forget that your
horse was included.”

“My horse! Oh, d — it!
I would not sell my horse for a hundred. Are you fond of an open carriage,
Miss Morland?”

“Yes, very; I have hardly ever
an opportunity of being in one; but I am particularly fond of
it.”

“I am glad of it; I will
drive you out in mine every day.”

“Thank you,”said Catherine, in some
distress, from a doubt of the propriety of accepting such an
offer.

“I will drive you up Lansdown
Hill tomorrow.”

“Thank you; but will not your
horse want rest?”

“Rest! He has only come three
and twenty miles today; all nonsense; nothing ruins horses so much as rest;
nothing knocks them up so soon. No, no; I shall exercise mine at the average
of four hours every day while I am here.”

“Shall you
indeed!”said Catherine very
seriously.“That will be forty miles
a day.”

“Forty! Aye, fifty, for what
I care. Well, I will drive you up Lansdown tomorrow; mind, I am
engaged.”

“How delightful that will
be!”cried Isabella, turning
round.“My dearest Catherine, I
quite envy you; but I am afraid, brother, you will not have room for a
third.”

“A third indeed! No, no; I
did not come to Bath to drive my sisters about; that would be a good joke,
faith! Morland must take care of you.”

This brought on a dialogue of civilities between the other two; but
Catherine heard neither the particulars nor the result. Her companion’s
discourse now sunk from its hitherto animated pitch to nothing more than a
short decisive sentence of praise or condemnation on the face of every woman
they met; and Catherine, after listening and agreeing as long as she could,
with all the civility and deference of the youthful female mind, fearful of
hazarding an opinion of its own in opposition to that of a self-assured man,
especially where the beauty of her own sex is concerned, ventured at length
to vary the subject by a question which had been long uppermost in her
thoughts; it was, “Have
you ever read Udolpho, Mr. Thorpe?”

“Udolpho! Oh, Lord! Not I; I
never read novels; I have something else to do.”

Catherine, humbled and
ashamed, was going to apologize for her question, but he prevented her
by saying,“Novels are all so full
of nonsense and stuff; there has not been a tolerably decent one come
out since Tom Jones, except The Monk; I read that t’other day; but as
for all the others, they are the stupidest things in
creation.”

“I think you must like
Udolpho, if you were to read it; it is so very interesting.”

“Not I, faith! No, if I read
any, it shall be Mrs. Radcliffe’s; her novels are amusing enough; they are
worth reading; some fun and nature in them.”

“Udolpho was written by
Mrs. Radcliffe,”said Catherine, with
some hesitation, from the fear of mortifying him.

“No sure; was it? Aye, I
remember, so it was; I was thinking of that other stupid book, written by
that woman they make such a fuss about, she who married the French
emigrant.”

“I suppose you mean
Camilla?”

“Yes, that’s the book; such
unnatural stuff! An old man playing at see-saw, I took up the first volume
once and looked it over, but I soon found it would not do; indeed I guessed
what sort of stuff it must be before I saw it: as soon as I heard she had
married an emigrant, I was sure I should never be able to get through
it.”

“I have never read
it.”

“You had no loss, I assure
you; it is the horridest nonsense you can imagine; there is nothing in the
world in it but an old man’s playing at see-saw and learning Latin; upon my
soul there is not.”

This critique, the justness
of which was unfortunately lost on poor Catherine, brought them to the door
of Mrs. Thorpe’s lodgings, and the feelings of the discerning and
unprejudiced reader of Camilla gave way to the feelings of the dutiful and
affectionate son, as they met Mrs. Thorpe, who had descried them from above,
in the passage.“Ah, Mother! How do you
do?”said he, giving her a
hearty shake of the hand.“Where did you get that
quiz of a hat? It makes you look like an old witch. Here is Morland and
I come to stay a few days with you, so you must look out for a couple of
good beds somewhere near.”And this address seemed to
satisfy all the fondest wishes of the mother’s heart, for she received him
with the most delighted and exulting affection. On his two younger sisters
he then bestowed an equal portion of his fraternal tenderness, forhe asked each of
themhow they did,and observed thatthey both looked very
ugly.

These manners did not please
Catherine; but he was James’s friend and Isabella’s brother; and her
judgment was further bought off byIsabella’s assuring
her,when they withdrew to see
the new hat,thatJohn thought her the most charming
girl in the world,and by John’s engaging her
before they parted to dance with him that evening.Had she been older or
vainer, such attacks might have done little; but, where youth and
diffidence are united, it requires uncommon steadiness of reason to
resist the attraction of being called the most charming girl in the
world, and of being so very early engaged as a partner; and the
consequence was that, when the two Morlands, after sitting an hour with
the Thorpes, set off to walk together to Mr. Allen’s, and James, as the
door was closed on them, said,“Well, Catherine, how do
you like my friend Thorpe?”instead of answering,
as she probably would have done, had there been no friendship and no
flattery in the case,“I do not like him at
all,” she directly replied, “I like him very much; he seems very
agreeable.”

“He is as good-natured a
fellow as ever lived; a little of a rattle; but that will recommend him to
your sex, I believe: and how do you like the rest of the family?”

“Very, very much indeed:
Isabella particularly.”

“I am very glad to hear
you say so; she is just the kind of young woman I could wish to see you
attached to; she has so much good sense, and is so thoroughly unaffected
and amiable; I always wanted you to know her; and she seems very fond of
you. She said the highest things in your praise that could possibly be;
and the praise of such a girl as Miss Thorpe even you,
Catherine,”taking her hand with
affection,“may be proud
of.”

“Indeed I am,”she replied;“I love her exceedingly,
and am delighted to find that you like her too. You hardly mentioned
anything of her when you wrote to me after your visit
there.”

“Because I thought I should
soon see you myself. I hope you will be a great deal together while you are
in Bath. She is a most amiable girl; such a superior understanding! How fond
all the family are of her; she is evidently the general favourite; and how
much she must be admired in such a place as this — is not
she?”

“Yes, very much indeed, I
fancy;Mr. Allen thinks herthe prettiest girl in
Bath.”

“I dare say he does; and I do
not know any man who is a better judge of beauty than Mr. Allen. I need not
ask you whether you are happy here, my dear Catherine; with such a companion
and friend as Isabella Thorpe, it would be impossible for you to be
otherwise; and the Allens, I am sure, are very kind to you?”

“Yes, very kind; I never was
so happy before; and now you are come it will be more delightful than ever;
how good it is of you to come so far on purpose to see me.”

James accepted this
tribute of gratitude, and qualified his conscience for accepting it too,
by saying with perfect sincerity,“Indeed, Catherine, I
love you dearly.”

Inquiries and communications
concerning brothers and sisters, the situation of some, the growth of the
rest, and other family matters now passed between them, and continued, with
only one small digression on James’s part, in praise of Miss Thorpe, till
they reached Pulteney Street, wherehe waswelcomedwith great kindness by Mr.
and Mrs. Allen,invited by the
formerto dine with them,andsummoned by the latter
to guess the price and weigh the
merits of a new muff and tippet.A pre-engagement in Edgar’s
Buildings prevented his accepting the invitation of one friend, and obliged
him to hurry away as soon as he had satisfied the demands of the other. The
time of the two parties uniting in the Octagon Room being correctly
adjusted, Catherine was then left to the luxury of a raised, restless, and
frightened imagination over the pages of Udolpho, lost from all worldly
concerns of dressing and dinner, incapable of soothing Mrs. Allen’s fears on
the delay of an expected dressmaker, and having only one minute in sixty to
bestow even on the reflection of her own felicity, in being already engaged
for the evening.